Nightmares
by chrono96
Summary: Lydia keeps having nightmares about Allison and Aiden. One night, when she can't take it anymore, she calls Stiles for comfort. Is this finally what he's been waiting for? Lydia/Stiles/Stydia. AU where Malia never came in the story.
1. Chapter 1

"S-stiles?" Lydia gulps, whimpering into the phone.

"Lydia? Are you okay? What's wrong?" Stiles asks. He was tired, not being able to sleep much, but he was alert now at the sound of Lydia's worried voice.

"I just...I've been having nightmares. About Allison. It's been happening every night, and I just...I can't take it tonight. Not tonight." She says, sniffling, sounding terrified. "They keep getting worse."

"Oh God, Lydia. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Stiles asks, sitting up. When she was in pain, he felt it too. That was one of the only things that has been happening for the past couple of years that _wasn't_ supernatural.

"I think so... I know this is a lot to ask, but I would usually go to Allison's house when I would have dreams about Jackson or Peter, but..." She cries, but he knows she's trying to hold it back.

"Lydia, um, I don't know if you would want to, but..."

"Stiles, is it okay if I come over?" She says, cutting him off. He was thankful, though, since he wouldn't have to keep going with that embarrassing proposal. "I really need someone right now."

"Yeah, oh yeah, definitely, I was just about to you know, um —"

"Shut up, Stiles." She commands, sighing. She was trying to sound annoyed, but he could practically hear her smiling through the phone.

"Okay," he smiles, and runs his fingers along his blanket, keeping himself busy so he doesn't freak out. He's been waiting for this day since 3rd grade. The day when she would finally realize she needed him, and he's been there the whole time, waiting.

"I'm on my way, okay? I'll be over in a few minutes. I'll see you then."

"Okay, see ya." He barely gets out, before she hangs up. He sighs, and sets his phone on the nightstand, before getting up, and hurriedly picking up clothes off the ground. He throws them all in the closet, and has to force the door shut. By the time he's done, he hears a knock on his bedroom door.

"Oh my god," he whispers, and hurriedly falls on the bed, faking a yawn. "Come in."

She opens the door and shakes her head, pursing her lips together. He was laying there with his hand behind his head, trying to make it look natural. Except it didn't, and he fell off the bed.

"Hey, Lydia," he says, scrambling to his feet.

"Hi, Stiles," she sighs, with her hand on her hip. He could tell she had been crying, and she was trying to act strong, but her voice was shaking.

"Lydia, come here," he says seriously, walking towards her, and wrapping his arms around her. It takes her a minute, but then he feels her body shaking, and his shirt dampening.

"Why did she have to die, Stiles," she sobs, gripping his shirt tightly in her fists. "I'm sick of people dying..."

"I know." He says, pulling her closer to him, and rubbing his hand on her strawberry-blonde hair soothingly. "She didn't deserve it."

"That's the thing," She pulls away slightly, tears falling consistently down her face as she looked up at him. It hurt him to see her like this. "It's everyone. Everyone I love is dying, Stiles. First Allison, Aiden, and next it will be y—" She stops mid-sentence, shaking her head. "Next it could be you or Scott."

"I won't die. I couldn't leave you like that. I'd come back from the dead to protect you, Lydia." He says, hesitating, before tucking her hair behind her ear. She darts her eyes away from his, biting her lip nervously, like she always does when he says something sappy like that.

"Shut up," she laughs, shaking her head.

"You know I'm not joking," he says seriously, as she finally looks back in his eyes.

"Let's go to bed. It's the middle of the night," she smiles weakly, but tears were brimming her eyes, and he noticed. "I need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."

"Okay. I'll be here." He says, running his fingers through his hair. She gives him a quick smile, and then slips out the door. He sits down on the bed, with his face in his hands, his heart pounding. He rubs the bridge of his nose, breathing in deeply, before getting under the covers, and leaning his head back on the wall behind his bed. Two, five, ten minutes passed, and he thought she had probably left by now. He must have done something to mess it up, which didn't surprise him, because he always messes things up. She probably came to her senses, and realized how ridiculous it was that she called Stiles, _Stiles_, to help her. The loser Stiles that has been drooling over her since 3rd grade. Finally he decided she had definitely left, and he reaches over to turn the lamp off.

"What are you doing?" She asks, quietly shutting the door behind her, stepping into his room.

"Thank God," He sits up, breathing in a sigh of relief.

"What?"

"Oh, um, nothing," He says, shaking his head quickly.

"Whatever," She says, making her way to the bed. Her hair was up in a loose bun, curls cascading down her neck, and he just now noticed her makeup-less face. She was wearing drawstring sweatpants, and a loose-fitting t-shirt. She looked a lot younger, he thought, but he knew that she would never be caught dead like this in public. He quickly leans over, and pulls the blanket back, and fluffs her pillow, before she got to the bed. She smiles, but she bites her lip, trying not to show it. He gulps, as she lays down, pulling the covers over her.

"Will you turn the light off?" She asks, but he's surprised by her soft voice, instead of her strong, couldn't-care-less one.

"Oh yeah," He says, turning over, and pulling down the switch, making the light flicker off. When he turns around, she's laying down on the pillow, facing him. He can faintly see the small smile on her face, from the moonlight pouring through the window. His heart starts to race, as he lays down on his pillow, a good distance away from her.

"Lydia?" He asks quietly, even though they're the only ones in the whole house.

"Mhmm?"

"Why did you call me? Me, out of everyone…" He sighs, tearing his eyes away from hers.

"Everyone? You are the only person I have left, Stiles. I love Kira, but I haven't known her long, and it's just….Not the same." She sighs.

"I'm sorry," He sighs, not knowing what to say.

"I'm glad I'm here. With you." She says, reaching over, and using her small hand to hold his.

"Um, my hand is sort of…."

"Sweaty? I know." She laughs, but doesn't let go. He felt nervousness - well, even _more _nervousness - form in the pit of his stomach. He had to tell her now.

"Lydia, do you know how I feel about you?" He asks, and he knows his hand would be shaking badly if it weren't for hers placed around it. She takes a minute to reply, making his anxiety levels rise.

"I know, Stiles. How could I not?" She mutters softly, her lips quirking up in a half-smile.

"You have a point," He laughs, his nerves calming slightly. She turns around, her hand detaching from his, and faces the way opposite of him. He lays quietly on his side, and closed his eyes.

"Are you going to cuddle with me or not?" She asks, demandingly. There's Lydia, he thought, smiling.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really, dumbass. I don't want to have any more nightmares." Her voice was strong at first, but got shakier and weaker towards the end.

"Alright," He says nervously, inching his body slowly towards hers. He didn't really know what to do. Should he put his arm around her? Should he rest his chin on her shoulder? He had no idea, so he just got closer, not touching her.

"Stiles," She sighs. "Put your arm around me." She says sleepily, as she slides her body back, pressing it against his. He gulps, and then puts his arm around her waist, and she links her fingers with his. Their bodies were touching in almost every place, and he laid his head on her pillow. He could smell her hair, which had the scent of flowers, and the smell of fresh rain, mixed in the most perfect way possible. He had never been this close with her, and he could feel her warm skin against him, smooth and soft against his own.

"I don't want you to think you're my last choice. You aren't." She speaks gently, quietly.

"Okay," He says, at a loss for words.

"I can feel your heart racing against my back," She whispers, smiling vaguely.

"I-I know," He answers. "I mean I know it is."

"Why?" She asks, even though they both know the answer.

"Because of you." He answers, not even trying to cover it up with a lie.

"Goodnight, Stiles." She murmurs, turning her head slightly, and pressing a soft kiss against his neck. Her lips lingered there for a few seconds, before she turned back around, instantly falling asleep.

"Goodnight. Just, um, wake me if you have a nightmare, okay?" He says, completely on edge. He could still feel the skin tingling from where her lips had been pressed against.

"Mhmm," She replies, but he knows that she's long gone already.

"I love you, Lydia." He says quietly, knowing she won't hear it anyway. "So much."


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as he woke up, he knew she was gone. The calmness and warmth she gave him was missing from the room, leaving him feeling restless and cold. He sat up feeling lost, tired, and wanting her back with him, but he knew it wouldn't happen. He knew it was a one time thing, and that was it. She would never speak of it again, and if he ever tried to mention it, she would pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. This had never happened before, but he knew Lydia. She did everything to make herself look strong, and he just wanted to let her know that breaking down sometimes doesn't mean you aren't strong.

He got out of bed, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and made his way to the kitchen. His arm was asleep, numb from him laying on it, and he knew his hair was probably sticking out in every way possible. He could hear the familiar sound of his feet hitting the wooden floor, but he also heard something else. Someone humming from the kitchen. He's in a panic, until he recognizes the soft voice. He turns the corner, and see's the beautiful flame-like hair falling down her back, in a mess of curls.

"Stiles!" She turns around, smiling slightly. "Finally you're awake. Can you grab the bacon from the fridge? I don't want the pancakes to burn."

"You're still…" He gulps. "Here?"

"Where else would I be?" She looks at him with a confused expression on her face.

"Lydia, I've known you since I can remember, and you still surprise me every day." He says, shaking his head.

"What do you mean by that?" She asks, waving her spatula around in the air. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. Bacon, Stiles."

"Oh yeah," He snaps out of his daze, staring at her. Her small, fair-skinned face, naturally red lips, or even the way she had to roll her sweatpants up at the bottom, because they were too long for her legs. Everything about her was mesmerizing.

"Can you grab the orange juice, too? I think I might have seen some in there." She says, completely back to paying attention to the pancakes.

"Sure," He says, setting the pack of bacon next to her on the counter, and then grabbing two cups from the cabinet. He poured the orange juice in them, but ended up spilling it on the ground, trying to fill up the second cup, because he had been watching her again. It isn't like he tried, but he would always catch himself staring, no matter what.

"I'm so glad it's Saturday. No school." She laughs, and it takes him a second to realize she was talking to him.

"I know, thank God." He says too, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure what he was saying, because she was making her way towards him.

"Ready to eat?" She looks up at him asking, with a plate full of pancakes and bacon.

"Y-Yeah, I'm really hungry." He says, tripping over his own feet, trying to get to the table.

"Honestly, Stiles, what's up with you today?" She laughs, sitting down across from him at the table.

"Nothing. At all." He says, shaking his head. He was jumpy, and completely on edge since he saw her standing there cooking the pancakes, but he was trying not to show it.

"Okay..." She laughs, eyeing him suspiciously. "Anyway, so I thought we could stay in and watch some movies? It's storming outside, and I don't feel like being home alone."

"Really? Yeah! I mean, yeah, sure. That sounds...good." He says, clearing his throat, and scratching the back of his neck.

"Only if you stop acting weird." She laughs, taking a bite of her bacon.

"I'm just...tired is all." He says, faking a yawn, and peaking through his shut eyes to see if she believes it.

"Yeah, not buying it." She says, taking a drink of her juice. "I was thinking scary movies. It's a perfect day for some."

"Yeah! That sounds great." He says, trying not to sound too excited. _Was this really happening? _

"Stiles?" She asks, tilting her head, and narrowing her eyes.

"Sorry," he says, snapping out of his reverie. "I'm done eating. Do you want me to get the movie ready?"

"That sounds great." She gives him a genuine smile, making his heart race. "I'll clean up in here, so I'll be in there in a few."

"Okay," he says, scrambling out of his seat, and into the living room. "Stupid, Stiles." He whispers to himself, slapping his head. He sighs, and gathers all the horror movies in the cabinet. He thought about before everything started happening (mainly Scott turning into a werewolf), and remembered when it was just him and Scott every weekend, hanging out together, watching these horror movies. Sometimes he missed that, when they were just normal teenagers, but now they've made new friends, and he's closer than ever with Lydia. Also the 'saving people' thing, too.

"Lydia, is The Last House On The Left okay?" He says loudly, holding the DVD in his hand.

"I've been wanting to see that! Put it in." She says from the kitchen. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and puts it in.

"Stiles," He hears her as the DVD slides in. He turns around, and she's standing in the doorway, looking down at her shirt. "Is it okay if I borrow a shirt? I got this one soaked." She laughs shaking her head.

"Oh yeah, sure. There's a basket of laundry over there." He points to the corner, and then scratches his neck.

"Perfect." She replies, reaching down to the hem of her shirt, and peeling it off.

"Woah, Lydia," He says, turning away, his heart racing.

"Don't be a prude, Stiles. It isn't like you haven't seen a girl naked before." She states, making her way over to the basket.

"Well...Not in real life…." He says quietly, still turned around. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, wiping the sweat off on the fabric.

"You haven't?" She asks, actually surprised. "So you're a…"

"Yeah, I'm a virgin." He sighs, rubbing his temples.

"Oh." She says, pursing her lips together. "I thought...I don't know. You can turn around now."

He turns around, and she's standing there in one of his black t-shirts, which is way too big for her. The hem almost goes to her knees, and the sleeves are hanging around her elbows.

"You're still a loser, but you at least got hot." She says, tilting her head, as she looks him up and down. She smirks slightly, looking up at his eyes.

"Really?" He grins, pumping his fist in the air.

"Hmm, don't ruin it. You'll get laid soon enough, by some girl who doesn't know what she's getting herself into. Well _onto_, more like." She laughs, sitting down on the couch. His smile faded, and his mood changed.

"I don't want to just get laid, Lydia. I want to really like the girl, you know?" He sighs, sitting on the couch next to her, as the menu popped up.

"Romance," she groans, admiring her fingernails. "Gross."

"God, Lydia, so you can honestly say all you want is sex? You don't want someone to take you out to eat, or someone you can tell all of your problems to, or even watch movies with?" He asks, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"It's all so...petty. I just like distractions." She narrows her eyes at him, tilting her head.

"Distractions are petty," He says, reaching for the remote. She grabs his arm, stopping him, and making him pull back.

"I would like to stay out of a relationship, because everyone I'm close to dies. I'd rather _not _be responsible for another death." She says, swallowing hard, and looking into his eyes.

"Lydia..." He whispers, feeling bad.

"Don't," she stops him. "Just play the movie. I don't want to think about it right now."

So he does. He reaches up, pressing play on the remote, and sits back against the couch, rubbing the bridge of his nose. A few minutes in, she lays her head against his chest, wordlessly forgiving him. He finally relaxes, thanking god she wasn't annoyed at him. He hesitates for a second, before running his fingers through her hair.

"Mmm," she says, snuggling her face against his shirt. She wraps her arms around his waist, and watches the movie. He puts his arm around her shoulder, and looks down at her, smiling to himself. He shakes it off quickly, and looks up at the tv.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm hungry." Stiles whines, as soon as the credits roll up.

"I'm terrified." Lydia sits up, gulping. "That was so...messed up."

"I've seen it a thousand times. Doesn't bother me anymore." He laughs, as she looks at him, her eyes wide.

"I don't...Nevermind. Let's go eat lunch. Even though it's..." She stops, looking down at her phone. "Two P.M."

"Well we ate breakfast at ten, so our timing is a little off, but it's time for lunch." He says, patting his stomach, and standing up. He holds his hand out, and she grabs it, standing up as well. She stretches her arms out and yawns, her nose crinkling slightly. God, he loved her.

"Come on," she grabs his hand, dragging him into the kitchen. She hoists herself onto a cabinet, crosses her legs, and smiles at him.

"So what are you making me?"

"I can't cook..." He says, gulping.

"Stiles, come here," she says, using her pointer finger to signal him. He steps closer, and when he gets close enough, she grabs his shirt, pulling him fully to her. She glances down at his lips, smirking, and then looks back into his eyes. He was standing, but she was on the cabinet, so he was only an inch or two taller than her in this position. She wraps her legs around him, pulling him even closer.

"Mhmm?" He asks, not meeting her eyes.

"I love how nervous I make you. Do you know that?" She asks, biting her lip.

"Umm.." He says, breaking out into nervous laughter. "I'm not —"

"Shut up, Stiles." She commands, and he clamps his mouth shut. "I love how your hand sweats when I hold it, and how your heart races any time I look at you."

"You do?" He asks, in disbelief.

"I bet your heart is racing right now, isn't it?" She murmurs against his neck.

"Lydia, what are you d—"

"Go make me something, would you?" She pushes him away, making him stumble backwards. "I made breakfast, now it's your turn."

"Okay..?" He says, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. What the hell just happened? "I...what do you want? To eat, I mean."

"God, Stiles, I don't know. Just make something good." She sighs, rolling her eyes.

"I'll try…" He says, still confused. He walks over to to fridge, and makes the only thing he really knows how to.


	4. Chapter 4

"Grilled cheese? I haven't had one of these since-"

"Since sixth grade. I know." Stiles says, setting her plate down in front of her.

"Stalker much?" She takes a bite, laughing.

"N-No! It's just, I remember you bringing one to school everyday until sixth grade. I wanted to ask you why, but…."

"But I ignored you." She sighs, shaking her head. "Sorry."

"I'm a loser, Lydia. I understand." He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I stopped eating them, because that's when my parents started to fight." She says quietly, almost inaudibly to him. "My dad used to make them for me, but one day he just stopped."

"Oh." Stiles says, embarrassed that he brought it up. "I shouldn't have -"

"Stiles, stop." She says, laughing. "I'm glad you did. I missed these things."

"Really?" He looks up, and she's smiling widely, her dimples prominent. She nods, looking up at him, tears filling in her eyes. She looks away quickly, and tries to discreetly wipe her eyes, but he notices.

"You know," He clears his throat. "A few months after my mom died, I asked my dad to teach me how to make them. I thought….god, nevermind." He stops talking, shaking his head.

"Tell me," She says, laying her hand on his. He looks down at their hands, and hesitates, before continuing with his story.

"Um, when I noticed you didn't bring them anymore, I thought if I made you one, you would notice me. I brought one to school every day for a month, trying to work up the nerve to walk over to your table. Scott finally talked me out of it." He says, laughing nervously. "It's really ridiculous, I know."

"That's really sweet, Stiles." She smiles weakly, rubbing her thumb across his knuckle. "It's not ridiculous."

"Pfff," He says, shaking his head, looking down at his half-eaten sandwich. "Anyway, my dad usually left in a rush in the morning, and that was the only thing I knew how to make, so I had to eat it every day anyway. Eventually Scott's mom found out, and started packing him extra for me. Scott swore he never told her, but I know he did."

"That was sweet of her." She laughs, squeezing his hand. "Let's go watch another scary movie."

"Okay," He smiles, as she pulls her hand away, and takes the plates to the sink. He goes into the living room, and picks another movie, putting it in.

"What is it?" She asks, curling up on the couch.

"Friday the 13th." He says, laughing, as she bites her lip in terror.

"No way, Stiles. I've heard this is terrifying." She says, shaking her head desperately.

"You're watching it, Lydia." He says, pressing play on the remote.

"Mmm, I like it when you're demanding." She smirks playfully, and pulls a blanket over them.

"Lydia," He laughs, shaking his head. His heart started racing.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time that movie was over, it was almost six. She had clutched his shirt a few times, burying her face in it from horror. He would rub her back soothingly, smiling, and telling her it was okay. He had seen it a million times anyway.

"These movies are so terrifying." She says, sitting up, as it ends.

"Yes, Lydia, that's why it's called a horror movie." He says sarcastically, earning a hit to the chest.

"Shut up, Stiles," She sighs, but he notices a slight smile on her face. "One more?"

"Sure," He laughs, sitting up and stretching. They end up watching Halloween, and by the end, Stiles was almost in tears from fear.

"Be a man, Stiles." She laughs, throwing a pillow at his head. He peaks out over the pillow, and sees that it's over.

"That was too much," He laughs. "I haven't seen it since I was a kid."

"I think that one was the worst." She laughs, yawning. The lightning strikes outside, and the thunder rolls, and of course, the power goes out. He launches himself into her arms, terrified.

"Lydia, oh God, I can't see!" He says, whimpering.

"I can't see either, Stiles!" She cries loudly, her voice frightened.

"Okay," He says, his voice high-pitched. "Okay." He says more firmly. "Lydia, let's go upstairs. I keep hearing a noise and it's scaring the hell out of me."

"God, okay, okay." She gulps. "I just can't stop thinking of that part on Halloween when-"

"Lydia, don't! I'm scared enough as it is." He whines, breathing heavily.

"Okay, I know, me too. Let's go upstairs." She gulps, gripping his shirt.

"Lydia, if we die tonight, I just want you to know..."

"Jesus, shut up, Stiles." She sighs, and stands up in the dark. She grabs him, pulling him off the couch.

"I'm scared," He whispers, as she uses the light on her phone to guide them through the room. The lightning strikes again, and Stiles jumps on her back.

"Stiles, get the hell off of me! I can't hold you up!" She exclaims, exasperated.

"Sorry, sorry," He gulps, patting her back. After a few more moments of freaking out, they end up holding hands, and finally make it into his bed room.

"So you're staying here again tonight?" He asks, leaning back on the heels of his feet.

"Um, yeah," she says, and he can practically hear her rolling her eyes. "Do you want me to die trying to drive home in this weather?!"

"No. I was just making sure." He laughs, blindly climbing into bed. He feels the bed dip a second later, and feels her snuggle against him.

"I don't think you're really a loser, you know." She says quietly against his chest. "I really am glad I have you, Stiles. I know I don't say it enough. Or ever, really."

"It's okay. I understand." He says, smiling stupidly in the darkness.

"Don't get the wrong idea." She says strictly, her voice changing drastically.

"I'm not." He says calmly. He was just happy to be there with her.

"Do you ever want to go back normal? Like everything was before?" She asks, tracing her fingers along his shirt.

"Yeah, I still think about it sometimes. But if it didn't happen, I would just be the same loser Stiles I always have been. I still am, but I can at least say I've saved a few people, you know? And I would have never become friends with one of the best, smartest, most beautiful person I know."

"Who?"

"Obviously you, Lydia." He replies, feeling her gulp.

"Oh." She says, staying silent for a few seconds. "I'm glad I'm friends with you too, Stiles."

"I thought you were gone this morning when I woke up." he whispers, wrapping his arms around her.

"Why?"

"I thought….I thought you'd be embarrassed of me. And that you stayed over." He replies, as she laces her fingers with his.

"Why me?" She asks a few minutes later, sniffling.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why do you like me? I've ignored you our whole lives, and the few times I didn't ignore you, I treated you like you were nothing. Like you were a nobody. I still treat you like that, but when I called you at two o'clock in the morning, you still answered, wanting to help. And you are still so nice to me, even when I don't deserve it." She whimpers, wiping away her tears.

"Because I know that's not really you, Lydia. I know that under that popular girl exterior, you're really one of the smartest and most amazing people I know. I hated seeing you have to act like that around school. I could see right through it, and I knew you hated it. That's why I kept putting up with it. For the person underneath all of that." He replies, telling her all of the things he has wanted to for years.

"Thank you. So much." She turns around, crying into his shirt. It turns into sobs, now for different reasons than just Stiles. He didn't know how to comfort her, so he held her while her body shook, and occasionally ghosted his hand over her hair soothingly. Her crying dies down eventually, but his shirt was still damp from the tears. Her sobbing turned to small whimpers, and she clutched onto his shirt tightly, and they fell asleep like that.


	6. Chapter 6

"Stiles?" He hears her whisper in his ear, her soft voice echoing in his dream.

"Mhmm," he asks, sitting up, and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Shhh," She says, pressing her finger against his lips. "Be quiet."

It was morning, but he could tell it was early morning because of the rising sun pouring through the window.

"What?" He asks, yawning.

"Shut up!" She whispers, as she straddles his waist, covering his mouth with her hand. His eyes widened at her on top of him. She narrows her eyes as she blankly looks at the wall, listening diligently. "I keep hearing something," She says quietly, and bites her lip.

"It's my dad, Lydia." He says, peeling her hand off of his mouth. "He's been at the sheriff's department for a few days. He has the night shift, so he's been just sleeping there. He probably came home to take a shower or something."

"Oh." She says, relieved. "Thank God."

"Um, Lydia," He whispers, sitting up for a second, and looking at her. "You may want to get under the blanket really quick."

"Wha-" She starts to say, but he flips her onto her back, laying her against the bed. He looks down at her briefly, a smirk crossing her face at his dominance. "God, that was hot."

"Be quiet for a second, okay?" He gulps, as he throws the blanket over her quickly, shutting her up. As soon as he does, his dad opens the door.

"Stiles?" He asks quietly.

"Hmm?" He replies, faking a yawn.

"I'm going back to the station, I'll be back tomorrow morning. I left some money in the kitchen for pizza." He says, smiling.

"Thanks, Dad." Stiles replies, nodding his head.

"Is there someone under there?" Mr. Stilinski asks, his eyes darting to the lump under the blanket.

"Pssssht, what? No—"

"Um, good morning Mr. Stilinski." Lydia pulls the blanket up, smiling at him.

"Lydia? Really?" He asks, giving Stiles a surprised look, lingering in the doorway. "What do you two think you're doing?" He asks, his voice noticeably stricter.

"Dad, nothing….happened. Lydia just needed someone to talk to. That's it." Stiles says, widening his eyes.

"Oh." He clears his throat awkwardly. "Well Lydia, nice to see you. Stiles, you sleep on the floor." He demands.

"Dad!" Stiles says, facepalming. "Are you-"

"I'm completely serious, Stiles. Ground. Now." He says, and waits a few seconds, before Stiles groans, and grabs his pillow, climbing off the bed. "Nice to see you again, Lydia. I'll see you two later. Behave." He shoots Stiles a look, and then shuts the door.

"Sorry." Stiles says, as he hears the front door shut a few minutes later.

"Don't be," She laughs uncontrollably, making him laugh as well. "That wasn't the first time I've been caught in bed with someone."

"Oh." He says, his heart sinking. He knew she wasn't a virgin of course, but he was jealous, and he felt bad about it. "Um, I think I'm going to take a shower." He says, standing up, and walking to his dresser. He grabs fresh clothes, and without another word, slips out of the room.

He gets to the bathroom and takes a hot shower, trying not to imagine Lydia with someone else, because it hurt too much. He gets out, and runs his fingers through his hair, taking in a huge breath. He dries off, and slips his clothes on, fixing his hair slightly, before opening the door. He looks up, and Lydia's standing there, smirking.

"You were jealous, weren't you?" She bites her lip, tilting her head.

"What are you, um, talking about?" He asks, backing up slightly, and managing to look everywhere but her eyes.

"Stiles, look at me," She says, pressing him against the wall. "Now."

"Okay," he says, hurriedly. He looks at her eyes finally, as her hand slides beneath the hem of his shirt, tracing a pattern on his stomach. "Lydia, what-"

"Were you jealous, Stiles? Tell me." She commands, her eyes darting between his. "Were you jealous that I had slept with someone before?"

"Yeah." He finally says, nodding his head. "I was. Well, I am. Present tense."

"Hmm," she licks her lips, pressing her body fully against his.

"Woah, Lydia, what are you doing?" He asks, sucking in a breath.

"Just be quiet, Stiles." She whispers, holding his shirt tightly in her fists, and pulling him down to kiss her. She pressed her lips against his, and his head started spinning. He tried to think. _Why was she doing this?_ But every time he tried to consider a reason, he would get distracted by her plump, swollen lips pressed firmly against his. He put his hands on her waist, and turned them both around, so she was now pressed against the wall.

"Mmm," she gasps against his lips, and wraps her arms around his neck. He felt something was wrong though, and he had to force himself to think.

"Lydia...stop." He pulls away, breathing heavily.

"Just kiss me," she murmurs, trying to pull him back to her, but he wouldn't budge. Of course he wanted to kiss her, but he knew it was wrong.

"I can't. I want to, but... I know it's for different reasons than you. I don't want to be another one of your distractions, Lydia. I can't do it." He backs away from her, looking down at the ground.

"Are you kidding? Quit making everything so complicated! Just stop thinking for once, and kiss me." She says, running her hands up his body.

"No! Get off of me! Don't...don't touch me like that. You can't." He says, shaking his head. "You know how I feel about you."

"Of course I know! That's why I thought you'd want to do this!" She says angrily, her fiery hair matching her emotions.

"You know that I'm in love with you, and you're just going to use me like a toy that you can dispose of any time you want. I've seen you do it, Lydia!" He raises his voice, but they could both tell it was laced with sadness. "I don't want that. I'd rather not have you at all, then have you, and know you don't feel the same. That you're just using me to feel better for a little while. God, for a second I thought you really wanted to just kiss me." He says quietly, shaking his head.

"I..." She says, tears forming in her eyes once again.

"You know how much I care for you, Lydia. I just can't." He says, and she shakes her head, looking down. "You know I want to kiss you, but just...not like this."

"I'm sorry, I thought...I thought you'd want to." She says quietly.

"Of course I want to, but...Look, Lydia, I'm not...I'm not mad or anything. I still want to hang out with you. I love being around you, and spending time with you. But you can't do that with me, okay? Not with me." He says, lifting her chin up to look at him.

"I get it. I understand." She says, nodding her head. She wipes away her tears, and smiles weakly at him. "I shouldn't play with your feelings like that, Stiles."

"So there's not really a chance you like me then?" He laughs nervously, even though he already knows the answer.

"Can I tell you something?" She says, darting her eyes away again. Always changing the topic.

"Of course,"

"I think….." She starts to say, biting her lip, still not meeting his eyes. "I….. Nevermind."

"Come on, Lydia. It's okay. You can tell me." He says, lifting her chin up.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it.." She shakes her head, backing away, letting his hand drop back down to his side.

"Okay," he clears his the throat, and aimlessly kicks his foot on the floor. He knows she's made up her mind, and he also knows that no one will change it.

"Let's go back to bed. It's too early to be up on a Sunday." She gives him a quick smile, and then walks back into his room.


	7. Chapter 7

She climbs under the blanket, snuggling against it. He smiles at her laying there, and then goes and lays on the ground. He stares up at the ceiling, thinking about all the things that have happened just this morning. He closes his eyes, and they sit there in silence for about five minutes.

"Stiles? Do you think you could disobey your dad just this once?" She asks in a soft voice. "We don't even have to cuddle or anything, I just..."

"Yeah, I can." He says, thanking god she asked. He grabs his pillow and stands up, climbing into bed next to her. She smiles at him, and then turns back around, facing the other way. He finally makes himself comfortable, and falls asleep.

When he wakes up, he feels something is different. He slowly opens his eyes, and he's about to shift his body, but then he notices that Lydia is cuddled up next to him. He doesn't remember how or when it happened, but he's happy it did. Her eyes were shut, her hair was messy, and her lips were parted slightly as she slept. She looked beautiful.

He reached over, and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, checking the time. It's was 12:48 P.M. That explained why he was so hungry. He heard Lydia start to whimper quietly against his shirt. She was still asleep, but her eyebrows were furrowed. She was having a nightmare. Her whimpers started to turn to panic and shallow breaths, so he sat up, shaking her slightly.

"Lydia, wake up," he says, terrified. He shakes her, but she's still sleeping. "It's just a dream, please wake up."

"Stop!" She yells, pushing him off. She shakes her head, digging her nails into his arm.

"Lydia!" He says louder, grabbing her face in his hands. She gulps, and opens her eyes slowly. "It's just a dream. I'm here okay?" He says softly, looking into her eyes.

"Okay," she gulps, nodding her head. Her eyes were still wide with fear, and he knew she wasn't fully recovered yet.

"Are you alright?" He asks, brushing her hair out of her face.

"I think so..." She gulps, and he sees the look of uneasiness in her eyes. He pulls her against him, and she wraps her arms around him, crying.

"I want to help. I wish I could have them instead." he says softly. She looks up at him for a second, tears staining her face.

"Really?" She asks, smiling weakly. He nods his head, and he tries not to, but he glances down at her lips. He remembers the way she tasted, and how she grasped his shirt tightly in her fists, pulling him against her. He darts his eyes back up to hers, and clears his throat, looking away.

"Stiles," she whispers, putting her hand on his arm, which made him nervous. He wanted to kiss her so badly, and he had the chance right now, but he was the one who told her stop earlier, and he knew he was doing what was right. It was just so hard, when he loved her so much.

"Yeah?" He asks, gulping.

"Nevermind." She turns away, dropping whatever thought she had.

"Lydia, you know you can tell me anything." He says, reaching over, and putting his hand on top of hers.

"Get off of me," She says suddenly, pushing him away. "I need to go home."

"What? Lydia, wait. Did I do something?" He asks, as she hurriedly gets out of bed, and grabs her bag.

"Just - Just forget about it, okay? Maybe I'll see you tomorrow." She says, rushing downstairs, and to the door.

"What did I do? Lydia, hold on a second," He says, following her out the door. She reaches for the car handle, but he stops her, gently grabbing her arm. "Just stop, and tell me what's wrong. Please."


	8. Chapter 8

She turns around, tears falling from her eyes, as he lets go of the grip on her arm.

"If I did something, please just-" He gets cut off abruptly, because she crashes her lips against his. He wanted to kiss her back so bad it hurt, but he couldn't. His stomach started to twist, as he had to pull away from her. He ached to kiss her again, but he had already made up his mind that it was a bad idea.

"Lydia, I told you…." He sighs. She looks down, and fidgets with her fingers silently for a minute.

"I love you. I'm in love with you." She says suddenly, clenching her jaw.

"This isn't funny anymore." He says, shaking his head.

"Stiles," She smiles weakly, looking up at him. "I'm not joking."

"What?" He asks quietly.

"I do. I tried to deny it for so long, but I can't anymore. I thought this would never happen, and I tried to fight it because I didn't want to put you in danger. But I'm so sick of pretending, and I love you so much I could scream." She says, her voice cracking slightly.

"I..." He replies, letting out a deep breath, not knowing what to say.

"When you stopped kissing me in there, I thought maybe you realized how really terrible I am and moved on...but then you told me you were in love with me and...I knew. I knew I loved you too." She uses her teeth to tug on her bottom lip, tears forming in her eyes.

Instead of replying, he gently grabs her small face in his hands, looking at her. She glances down at his lips, and he slowly leans in, and presses them against hers. Her hands grab his arms, desperately pulling him to her. His thumbs brush the tears from her face, as he kissed her slowly, gently, silently showing her how much he really loves her. How much he has loved her for all of these years.

* * *

This is the end! It was a pretty short story, but I just started back my second year of college, and I don't have a whole lot of time to write :( tell me what you think!


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